Wrath

way she brightened up at his touch. “Besides, I’m kind of impressed. It’s good to see you raising a little hell.”

“I learned from the best,” she said teasingly.

“Then you didn’t learn enough. I know better than to get caught,” he boasted.

She ducked her head and giggled. It wasn’t a sound that suited her. She wasn’t a giggler.

“How did you know they caught me, by the way?”

“A master never reveals his secrets,” Kane swore. His network of informants depended on his discretion-and his power depended on his access to their information. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

“Someday, Kane, you’re going to find out you don’t know everything,” Miranda cautioned him.

“And someday, Stevens, you’re going to find out I know even more than you think.”

Do the right thing, or do the smart thing?

She couldn’t flip a coin this time, not with Miranda facing her, waiting for some kind of answer. Miranda was flushed, and kept smiling and staring off into space, as if her brush with the vice principal had completely unhinged her.

“I’d never ask you to turn yourself in,” Miranda said again. “I just thought you should know what was going on.”

“And they didn’t mention me at all?” Beth asked. She felt guilty for even considering weaseling out of responsibility, but she’d never been in trouble before, and the prospect of getting caught terrified her. They were huddled over a small table in the library, just across from the shelf of college guides-a vivid reminder of how much Beth stood to lose.

Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke the rules, a voice in her head suggested.

“No,” Miranda confirmed. “They know there’s someone else, but they have no idea who it is.”

“A month of detentions…” Beth couldn’t imagine it. She’d never even had one.

And it wasn’t just the fear of spoiling her record-her permanent record-that stopped her. She worked at the diner after school. On off days she babysat for her little brothers and bounced between countless applicationpadding extracurriculars. She couldn’t spend a month in detention; it would ruin everything.

“Do you want me to turn myself in?” Beth asked, knowing already that the ironclad rules of the teen honor code would force Miranda to say no, regardless of the truth.

“No, of course not. I mean, unless you…”

“I could,” Beth offered. “I mean, I would, if you wanted me to. Of course.”

“Oh, I know you would, of course.”

“But, you know, if you don’t really think it would change anything…,” Beth hedged.

“No, I guess… no reason for us both to go down, right?” Miranda said weakly“! mean, it seems sort of silly, for you to just-out of solidarity, or something.”

“But if you wanted me to-”

“No, only if you wanted to-”

She deserved that month of detentions, every bit as much as Miranda. But then-what was the difference?

Did she deserve for her boyfriend to cheat on her? Did she deserve to bomb the SATs after all her studying? To cry herself to sleep every night? To be screwed over by Adam, by Harper, by Kane, to be left alone? What had she ever done to deserve any of that?

But what had Miranda done, either, other than come along for the ride?

She opened her mouth, intending to say one thing-and then said another thing entirely.

“Okay, I guess I’ll keep quiet,” she told Miranda, who gave her a thin smile. “Thank you.”

Beth had always thought of herself as someone who did the right thing, but now she knew the truth. She only did the right thing when it didn’t cost her anything. She opened her mouth to take it back, but Miranda was already standing up and walking away. Not that it mattered: Beth didn’t have the nerve, even if the alternative meant hating herself.

I’ll make it up to you, she promised Miranda silently. Somehow.

Kaia didn’t know he was there until he’d crept up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. She almost knocked over her coffee when she whirled around and realized he had approached her in a public place, in a coffee shop, where anyone could see. Powell was on permanent orange alert at the possibility of anyone seeing them together, and if he’d elected to throw his obsessive caution to the wind, it could mean only one thing: He was losing it.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked, wondering if he’d been following her.

“I needed to see you,” Powell said, ignoring the question. He wrapped his fingers tightly around her forearm and pulled her toward a secluded corner of the deserted coffee shop. She settled into an overstaffed armchair, but he stayed standing, hovering nervously behind her.

“Sit down,” she hissed, disgusted. Where was the cool British charmer she’d pursued, the one with the icy glare and the cocky certainty that nothing mattered but what he wanted? “It’ll be bad enough if anyone sees us together, but if they see you fluttering around me like a nervous boyfriend-just sit down.” She pointed to a chair across from her close enough that they could talk without being overheard, and far enough that he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her, even if he’d truly become unhinged.

“So? What is it?” she asked, when he’d finally sat down and a minute had passed in silence. “What do you want?”

“What are you doing?” he asked, almost sorrowfully.

“What am I doing?” She arched an eyebrow. “Look where we are. What are you doing?”

“You won’t return my calls. I needed to see you.”

“I’ve been busy.”

He let loose a harsh chuckle. “Busy? In this town? No such thing. No, I can guess what you’ve been doing.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been with him, haven’t you?”

“You’ve been watching me?” she said, pretending the realization came as a surprise.

“Of course not.” He laughed, a few bitter barks of noise that contained no humor. “I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

He seemed so honestly disdainful of the idea that she almost believed him; but then, if he hadn’t been watching her, why the righteous anger? How could he be so sure?

“It’s all over town, dearest.You may have some discretion, but your gutter-rat, I’m afraid…”

Reed wouldn’t have spread anything around, he wasn’t the type. But how could she be so certain, she asked herself, about a guy she’d just met? What made her so willing to trust the pizza delivery boy who drove around in a pickup truck, smoked mountains of pot, and never answered any of her questions?

“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you’re right. Let’s say I was…”

“Cheating on me,” Powell supplied helpfully. It was an odd choice of words, since cheating implied a relationship. And whatever they had-an agreement, an unwritten contract, a mutual disregard-it wasn’t a relationship.

It was sex, nothing else.

“Whatever,” she said, throwing up her hands in supplication. “Let’s say you’re right. What now?”

He looked surprised-maybe by her unruffled expression, which, she hoped, made it painfully clear that she didn’t care what happened next.

“Now? Now you stop seeing him,” he ordered. “We agreed-you want this, you want me, you can’t have anyone else.”

“Fine.” Kaia shrugged.

“Fine?” He raised his eyebrows. Maybe he’d been expecting more of a fight. “You’ll stop seeing him, then?”

“No.” Did she have to spell it out? “I’ll stop seeing you.” She finished her iced coffee in a single gulp and stood up. “It’s been fun, Jack. See you around.”